Siberia's Wonderland
by whiteandnerdyXD
Summary: Russia follows a stranger into a snowy wonderland and seems to find himself with a childish curiosity which leads him into much trouble. He encounters many strange creatures, who most of the time just irritate him, and finds himself inside the courtroom of Queen Belarus, the Queen of Hearts, awaiting an execution. Seems familiar?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Almost everyone knows what it's like to sit through a blizzard near a fire, cocoa in one hand, with all the troubles of the worlds pushed away. The feeling of safety from the storm, the calm stillness that drifts through the atmosphere. The feeling of sweet boredom relaxes all that has been tense. Moments like that, everyone wants to hold on to. The feeling of having all the time in the world, perhaps even forming a story in one's imagination. Some even enjoy dozing off into their dreams.

Ivan reached his feet out to the fire and sighed. He looked out the window into the snow as he took a sip from his mug. The day had been long for him, and being snowed in during his evening gave him time to relax. He was missing a UN meeting, but didn't mind at all. He apologized over the phone to Britain and mocked regret. But inside he was rejoicing with all his heart. He felt like the snow was his one chance to lock himself away, throw the world's problems into the blazing fire he was warming himself with. He smiled at his thoughts of setting the world ablaze. Secretly, he wished he could do exactly that.

Being bored out of his mind, Ivan looked over his hand. The great contraption everyone possessed. All the bones, every muscle, exactly in place. They all worked together in unity. He thought to himself how it would be on Earth if everyone worked that way. Everyone with a purpose, no one lounging around with nothing to do, as he was at the moment. Then he thought about his whole body. What if everyone in the world was like a body part? He knew that he was being lazy, and not doing his part of the body's struggles. But he also knew that everyone had to rest every now and again, otherwise the whole body would be worn out and unable to finish the rest of humanity's chores.

Light and careful knocking arose from the door. "Who is it?" Russia called out sleepily.

"Ukraine." His sister croaked.

"Come in, it's open." He mumbled, practically to himself. The door banged open, a knife in the recent silence, with a gust of wind. The fire flickered, and then went out. Grumbling, he struck another match and thrust it into the ashen wood. The room lit up again, with the friendly warmth, and Russia embraced his sister. He made his way into his little kitchen and poured another cup of hot cocoa for his beloved sister. He watched the snow white marshmallows melt in the hot drink and smiled. He handed the drink to Ukraine, and hoped that she liked it.

"Take a seat, sister, I missed you." He gestured to the large chair beside his own. With the mug in her hands, she sat down and smiled through the steam. Her dull blue eyes were older than his, wiser and larger. Though she was pretty young, she had slight wrinkles next to her eyes from smiling so often. She and Russia had gone through tough childhoods together, along with their younger sister, Belarus. But both with proud smiles.

Through her cocoa, Ukraine sighed. "It's nice to relax like this. You do it often?"

He chuckled, lightly. "Not at all. I never get a break from meetings and all…"

"Well, I assume that we should take in this moment for ourselves, da?"

The siblings sat and discussed absolutely nothing, taking occasional sips from their mugs. The fire burned on, and soon everything that Russia had thought about earlier was pushed into the past. He was occupied with his sister. The storm passed on outside the small cabin, without notice, without an issue. More and more snow piled onto the ground as the time passed, Ukraine and Russia safely tucked away, as if all time had stopped. They were in their own time capsule, with nothing in the world threatening to sneak up on them. Those meaningless, settle moments, were the ones they treasured most.

In the storm stood a man. He was not locked away with time. Rambling to himself, he held tightly to the rope that kept the raging huskies by his side. The smaller one was howling off into the clouded sky, and the larger one was jumping and snapping its teeth at absolutely nothing. Each time they jerked away from him, he would tug them back to his side. They yelped for some time; they did not enjoy being choked, then resumed misbehaving. The dogs' fur was lined with frost, as was the man's hair and eyelashes. He stood still, not shivering even if his black trench coat did not hold back the cold. No matter how hard the wind blew, it was unable to knock the white sailor cap off of his sandy brown hair. "I'm late, oh dear, oh so very late…" He was mumbling to himself, staring at the cabin with intensity. He had a wolfish grin spread across his face from ear to ear. "Oh, how late…"

Russia sat with Ukraine and knew in his head that he was never going to be alone. She was always going to be with him, no matter what. For some reason, sitting in the cabin with her reminded them of how terrible their past had been. It was not often they could sit together and talk over their memories. Sometimes all they needed was a little push, a little snow storm to bring them together. Russia's mind was absorbing Ukraine's stories intently. He listened and thought about how much they had gone through together. Her voice was drawing his attention very cleverly. He had heard those stories many times before, he lived through them and by them, but each time Ukraine would bring up the subject, he felt like a child again, reliving it all.

As Ukraine's voice dragged on, Russia wished he could be a child again. He wished that there was some way to remake his childhood. To recreate it into something happier. He wondered what he would have made it into. He would've liked to make more friends, he would've liked to say good-bye to his deceased mother, and he would've liked to do a lot more things. He wished he could tell everyone that he loved them. He really did. He loved everyone so much, and that was why he was so violent towards them. He wished he could just hug the whole world.

"I'm going to get some more cocoa, brother." His sisters hand pressed down on his head playfully as she walked past him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Gazing out the window, Russia spied a figure. He wondered why anyone was outside during the blizzard. Watching the dark figure standing motionless and blurred in the speeding snowflakes, Russia stood up and walked to the window. His stomach began to tingle. He felt this dragging sense of curiosity arise within the back of his head. It nagged at his mind, merciless. He watched the figure with two animals and felt a call summoning him. Wind fluttered the dark tail-coats of the figures coat. Russia reached out to open the door of the cabin, without reason, just to feel the power of the storm, and in drafted an eerie howl. It's faded tune rung in his ears and he closed his eyes just to get a closer listen to it.

Quickly, he grabbed his coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck and shoulders. He remembered Ukraine, and left a note. He shut the door after him, and stepped into the soft snow. His feet made slight crunching noises as he struggled to lift them up and put them down, in order. The strong wind kept tripping him, making him stumble over his own feet. He shut his eyes tightly and focused on moving forward, leaning forward against the screaming wind relying on it to keep him from falling face first. His ears picked up a drifting sound amongst the snow stinging his ears. From what he heard, it seemed as if a male's voice was repeating "I'm late… so late… oh, so very late…"

Opening his eyes, Russia saw the figure closer. It was a man about his height, with copper hair streaked with silver wearing a white sailor's cap, a black trench coat, and a sharp claw attached around his neck by a piece of rawhide. The man held two huskies with a single rope by his side, their helpless whimpering drifting around in the air, endlessly. The man turned his back to Russia, smiling with vibrant gold-colored eyes. A wave of worry washed up on his face and he began to ramble to himself. "I'm late! I must move on! I'm late!" He turned his head away as well and began to run away. He scurried across the snow with his dogs yelping after him in the same manner as a bounding hare.

With unexplained hurry, Russia pushed on after the man. "Wait! Wait for me! Who are you? Who…?" His breath was cut off and reserved for the rest of his run. The man ran into a thicket, flashing a glance back to Russia, and rushed his dogs on before him. Large, leafless trees crowded Russia as he continued to follow the confusing trail of the strange man. Through the black tail coats of the man, he spied a white fluff. It was gone in a second, so he shook his head loose of the sight.

The man came upon a prickly looking bush, again, glanced at Russia and hurried his dogs in. He disappeared into the bush himself after, once more, checking on Russia. Frantically, Russia stumbled over his own foot, just in reach of the mysterious bush. He crawled around to the other side of it to find a dark hole. He peered in, looking around and into the large hole, his curiosity blowing over the top. "Hello…?" He called into the hole, his "hello" being returned multiple times. He smiled at his chance for adventure and slid his foot down into the hole, in search of a step. Instead, the large black hole pulled him in. The surprise of falling so suddenly excited his stomach.

He reached out to grab the side of the wall, in search of a grip, perhaps to dig his hands into the dirt. But his hands slipped along the side of the hole, instead of breaking into it. The air rushed at him, blocking his lungs, making it difficult for him to see, as well. He gasped, trying to get some oxygen into his system, but failed and continued falling with great speed. Dim lighting began to appear and he saw that the wall was actually aligned with small grey tiles. The floor sped towards Russia, without giving him the time to brace himself for the fall. But instead, he fell right into soft, fluffy snow. "That's strange…" he awed "There's no blizzard here. How am I outdoors in a hole?"

Looking around, he saw that he was in some garden like environment. Bushes with white, snow frosted leaves and snow covered flowers. Through the snow was a path of grey stone, brisk and fresh in the snowy ground. The sky was a mysterious white color, with heavenly patches of sun peeking through. At the end of the short, yet wonderful, path was a small ice frosted chair with a similar table beside in. On the table was a frilled white box with a note attached to it. Russia stood up without shaking the snow from his shoulders. He heard something that sounded like the strange man's rambling. He turned his head to where the noise had come from just in time to see a small door shut. "Wait…!"

"Can't!" was the muffled reply from inside the door. Russia cautiously made his way to the small door and got back down on his knees. "How am I supposed to fit through here?" He poked at the white oak door.

"Try the box!" was a muffled reply from no one.

"Who said that?" Russia asked curiously, thinking that it was the mysterious man.

"Why, me! The door, of course!" he jumped back at that response. He backed away carefully, not knowing what to think. He tried to ignore that part of the conversation, and looked at the box. "Open me" it read, so he did. Inside were lightly colored sugar cookies. Russia took one in his hand, and on it was written, "Eat me" in snowy pink frosting. He didn't see anything wrong with it, so he bit his teeth into it. It had a really sweet taste, but didn't exactly agree with his stomach. He looked down at his belly as it grumbled, and suddenly, he was standing over the garden, with his head beside a cloud.

"This doesn't seem right…" he ran his hand through his hair in confusion.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Oh! Wrong one." If the door had a face, it would've been smirking. A frown of frustration clouded Russia's face as he reached down for another cookie.

"No! Don't touch those! Try the bottle." Russia found a rather small bottle with the label "Drink me". He opened it, hoping that it wasn't just another gag. He took a large gulp, and suddenly his head was much higher than the cloud that had been near his face. He heard the door laughing at him, and he felt a tear form at the bottom of his eye. As it ran down his cheek, it froze and floated to the ground as a beautiful, crystal colored snowflake. A child's urge to make a scene clenched his fists and tightened in his chest. He felt a certain frustration at the door. He never liked being laughed at; he always thought and always was the biggest and strongest. Never did he think that someone would even have the slightest reason to laugh at him.

There he stood, completely flustered. Tears spilled from his eyes and froze as they rode down his nose and cheeks. They all fluttered to the ground and formed into a great mountain of snow at his feet. "Look! Look! Don't stop crying!" The door kept shouting and laughing, but Russia continued to allow the tears to fall. The cloud was near his face, again, and he grew smaller and smaller. Realizing that he was now standing atop a large mountain of snow, he looked down at the slick ice that covered it. Sitting down onto the slippery snow, he began to slide down, just light enough to drift atop the snow and not crash through it.

Into Russia's ear howled a scared dog. He briskly turned his head to see that right beside him was a rather large husky, its tongue lolling out the side of its large teeth, and its ears perked and alert. The lush fur of the animal's chest was fluffed up by the brown silk vest it bore. Around it's thick neck was a satin bow, and the fur on the dog's head was combed neatly. It yelped with fright as it scrambled along the slippery snow. One of the husky's claws pierced through the snow, causing it to trip over itself, turning head-over-heels, and landing rather painfully on its large shoulder.

The door sped up to Russia, and he stuck his feet out in front of him to avoid a crash. The door opened itself, without the help of Russia's feet, all while shouting, "Hey! Don't you, sir, kick me!"

The dog beside Russia laughed, "Serves him right! Telling you the wrong things!" he stood up and shook the bits of ice from fur, and combed it down with his paw. Russia looked around, finding himself surrounded by these rather noble-looking dogs, all of them, combing out their fur with a regal causality.

"You just spoke…" Russia stammered, cautiously moving back from the husky, all while crashing into another one.

"I beg your pardon!" The dog barked at him. "I am not clueless enough to need YOU to tell me whether I spoke or not!"

"I… I'm sorry… it's just that… I have never seen a talking dog before."

"Well, you have certainly lived in a cave all your life, my good sir. Shame, yes it is, now, my pack needs to move on, so farewell and good riddance!" With that, the dog flicked his tail at Russia and trotted off to the rest of the royal-looking dogs.

"Wait!" Russia needed to ask questions. Snob or not, that dog certainly knew better than he about what was going on.

"I said, farewell!" The husky called back to him, and continued trotting away. It stuck its nose into the air and kicked snow back at Russia.

Knowing that he was without luck, Russia sat and began to shake snow from his own coat. He took the scarf from around his neck, shook the snow from it, and wrapped it back onto his shoulders. He looked behind him to see if it was not too late to turn back and try to find his way home, but the door had gone completely out of sight. Remembering the mysterious man, he glanced into the large forest in front of him. The trees all were aligned with frost and light powdery snow covered the unseen ground. The light, sunless sky remained calm and unreal. Every bush and evergreen tree had snow piled on it, still and calm, nothing in the forest moved as if it was all frozen.

Russia stood back up onto his feet and felt trapped. It was almost by force that he walked towards the large trees. Suddenly, he was small and helpless. Drawn to the forest like a moth to a light, with no chance of turning away. It just about made him laugh about how clueless and vulnerable he was. The whole forest was quietly laughing at him, awaiting his mistakes.

After scrambling around through the trees for some time, Russia came across a rather small house; its exterior had a crystal essence to it, as if it was made entirely out of ice. He spied the mysterious man tying up his two dogs to the crystal dog house that stood right outside. These two dogs didn't wear vests and bows, and they didn't seem regal at all. They barked, howled and yelped into the forest with frisky energy. The man spied Russia, blinked a few times, and rambled to himself the way he did when Russia first saw him. But this time he was saying things like, "Must get ready! Or I'll be late! I must be prepared!"

The man ran into the little house, leaving the door wide open. Russia's curiosity was arisen, and he made his way to the front door. The two dogs barked at him, but when he looked into their large grey eyes, he saw something rather human about them. They expressed fear, great fear, and warned him to proceed no further. After eyeing them for a little bit, he continued to open door. Before stepping into the small house, he looked back at the dogs once more. The eyes of the dogs' glistened in the light and they watched him, shaking with terror.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Russia's head spun around him. A feeling tingled within him. A feeling that he knew where he was. A gust of wind rushed through the house, shutting the door behind him, making him turn his head in panic. He walked into the room that he and Ukraine had sat in earlier, drinking hot chocolate, talking. The room gave an eerie empty sense in his heart. Something from his present life was missing, and he felt it coming back to him. But he knew it. He knew it with all his heart. This empty feeling was something pulled from his past, and it nagged at him, screaming, "_Remember me! Remember me, Ivan! You know you can!"_

Slowly, cautiously, he walked into the room. It was his home. The large chairs were there, the fireplace still burning, and that bearskin rug that he had made himself. The floor even had the same wood laid out, with every nook and cranny exactly in place. He sat down onto the bearskin rug, and ran his hands through the brown fur. It felt the exact same way as it did when he was carrying the bear's carcass through the snow, back to the little shed in his back yard. "This can't be real…" he mumbled. "I'm going crazy. This is coming from the overdose of hot chocolate, yes that's it." He remained on his knees and leaned forward into the rug. He clasped his heads over his head; he was bowing to the mysterious man out of respect. This man was a god, he was amazing, and Russia had seen no one else so great at the art of mimicking.

He stood up with his heart racing up to his throat, trying to leap out. His steps were shaky and small, like those of an uncertain child, wondering who was out there to catch him if he fell. The kitchen was, of course, in the same place as his own. The cabinets of the same wood, the floor of the same tile pattern, the table and chairs, exactly in place. He spied a mug on the wooden handcrafted table, and looked into it. It was the exact mug that he had given to Ukraine that day. In it was her untouched chocolate, the chunks of unmixed chocolate powder remained, the way she always made it.

He took the mug into his hands, it was still warm. The steam wafted out from it, warming his face. He lifted the mug to his lips and drank Ukraine's chocolate. He closed his eyes as another wind passed through the house, and felt his head jerk up to the ceiling. It pounded at him, bumping his head really hard into the roof. Dust from the ceiling flew everywhere, and covered him almost from head to toe. "Not again!" He yelled to himself, knowing that he had grown again.

"Hey! Look what you did to my house! What are you doing?! Come down here this instant!" Russia looked down and saw the mysterious man, tiny and raging, at his feet. His pale face was flushed with anger, and his white sailor had fallen off of his head. This was the man the Russia had just recently called a god.

"I… I'm sorry… sir, but I seem to be stuck like this…" Russia scratched his head, feeling helpless. The feeling of being completely out of use, thrown away, being nothing but a nuisance and a disruption in the flow of the universe. He felt big and clumsy, screwing up in every way possible. The world seemed so delicate, like china dishes, and he was crashing them aimlessly with large, clumsy hands. It was too much for him to cry, so he just stood there with his head down in shame.

The white sky broke into a feathery flurry, and the diminutive flakes fluttered down upon his head and shoulders. As if the weight of the light snow was pushing him down, he began to grow back to his normal size. Once again, he stood in the kitchen of the man, with the warm mug in his hands. The man was nowhere to be found, so he made his way as quickly as possible to the exit of this replica. Again, the dogs barked, growled and howled at him as he ran past. He turned his head back to the snarling pair, and shivered as he caught the glisten in the larger dog's eye.

Russia tried to make as much space between him and the house, the similar rooms spinning around his head, the taste of the hot chocolate still fresh in his mouth. A drop of blood was tasted in the mixture of the chocolate. Suddenly, the sweet taste was replaced by the entirety of metallic blood. Through Russia lips, the blood pushed itself. He bent in half, his stomach churning in ways that it has never done before. He felt the hot, bubbling liquid pouring down his chin. First his mind went black, then red, then black again. The crystal snow came sharp onto his body, as he toppled to his knees, then to his face.

"Wake up, son." Russia heard a faint, calm male voice purring. Something plump with a leathery substance pawed his head, and then retreated as he tried to brush it away. He opened his eyes slowly, and focused his vision back to normal. Around him spun the white trees, with no end. Flurries still fell from the white cloudless, sunless, starless sky. Smoke floated over his vision, and he turned his head. Lying on its back, with its paws hanging in the air, was a large white Siberian Tiger. Its beady, cat-like eyes looked over him.

"Where am I?" Russia knew it was a dumb question, but he couldn't think of what else to ask.

"Depends." The tiger began smoking form the hookah he held in between two of his silvery paws. He blew smoke out into Russia's face.

Coughing, Russia asked, "Depends on what?" already irritated, Russia began to stand up. On his shaky legs, he realized that he had grown to a smaller size.

"Depending on your state of mind, of course!"

"M…my state of mind?" the tiger smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. He rolled over onto his stomach, and pawed Russia's scarf a couple of times.


End file.
